You Are Not Alone Dear Lonely Mrs
by elisheva
Summary: A case takes the team to Missouri where they investigate the murders of women with no apparent connection. Suggested Prentiss/Reid
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Not my characters, obviously. I took some liberties with this as I do not know anything about true crime (or anything I am willing to share). Please be kind or don't read it. Enjoy!**

* * *

Emily Prentiss sat down in her semi-comfortable chair and took a moment to savor her first sip of coffee. When she opened her eyes she found her boss staring at her.

Aaron Hotchner's face betrayed no emotion. "Where is Reid? He's usually here by now."

Emily couldn't help glancing at Reid's area. "He went for a quick visit to see his mother since we have a break between cases."

"There's nothing quick about those visits," Hotch said, but turned to walk away.

"Ok, then," she slowly muttered before going back to her still steaming coffee.

* * *

Dr. Spencer Reid sat in a low folding chair, hands clasped as he watched his mother. "Mom, there are no electronic devices planted in your room."

Diana Reid looked up from the drawer she just emptied on the floor. "Who are you? What do you want?"

"Mom, it's me. Spencer."

She appeared to relax but still narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "You bring any of those feds with you?"

"No. Just me."

She still looked around. "They're after me, you know."

Reid sighed and put his head down for a moment. "Why do you think they are after you? Have you committed a heinous crime?"

"They know, Spencer."

"Know what, Mom?" he asked, dreading the answer.

"Here," she said, tapping her head as she slumped against the wall, looking everywhere. "They know. In here."

Reid knew to question her further about that subject would have a negative reaction to her. He decided to try a different topic. "So, Mom, I heard you started in the art class. How do you like it?"

Diana didn't answer. Her eyes were still darting everywhere but the rest of her didn't move.

Reid looked at his watch and sighed again. He stood and went to kneel in front of his mother. "Mom, I've got to go but I'll be back soon, ok?"

She didn't look at him at all.

He leaned over to kiss her on her cool cheek then left the room to find her doctor. He walked up to the first nurse he saw. "Hey, I'm looking for Dr. Atkins."

She smiled up at him. "You're in luck. He's actually in today. Can I tell him who wants to speak to him?"

He always thought that phrase was ridiculous. What would she do if he said no? "Spencer Reid," was his actual answer.

About five minutes later Dr. Jack Atkins came around the corner, smile on his face, hand outstretched. "Dr. Reid!"

"Hello, Dr. Atkins."

"How can I help you?"

"I'd like to discuss my mother's current treatment."

Dr. Atkins led him to an empty room. "Currently Diana is on the same dosage and medications as when she was transferred to us."

Reid bit his lip in thought. "I moved her to be closer to me. In retrospect it seems to have had a negative impact on her behavior."

"As you well know any kind of change will be seen as a bad thing in the eyes of someone like Diana. Perhaps a tweek in medications will ease her more smoothly into her new home."

They were in a deep discussion about new various treatments when Reid's phone buzzed him. "I'm sorry but I have to go," he told Atkins.

"Not a problem, chap. I'll call you with any updates."

"Thanks." He moved down the hall to try to use his cell inconspicuously. "Dr. Reid."

"I know who I called, genius."

He could almost hear her smile. "Hey, Em. What's going on?"

"It was too quiet around here without someone quoting statistics or random facts."

"Did you know along with calcium people also wanted to add iron to milk? It was only when they discovered it turned coffee green that they ditched the idea."

She laughed and then they were quiet for a moment. When Prentiss spoke again her voice took on a more serious tone. "I didn't interrupt your visit just to chat."

He responded to her tone by copying it with his, subconsciously tensing up. "What's wrong?"

"Hotch wanted to know when you could be back. We have a case."

Reid bit his bottom lip again in concentration. "I can be there in little under five hours depending on when I can get a flight out."

"We leave at first light."

"I'll be there."

"We're going to Sikeston, Missouri if you can't get here in time."

He looked at his watch to gauge how much time he was allowed. "I'll be there, Emily."

"Be careful, Spencer."


	2. Chapter 2

He made it. Barely. The team was climbing the stairs to their jet when he arrived, running with his bag to join his partners.

Derrick Morgan smiled when he saw his friend. "Hey! You made it! Man, you look like hell."

Reid scowled at him as he made his way to the back of the plane to stow his gear. "I spent half the night in an airport and got home in barely enough time to pack."

Morgan shrugged. "You could have met us there"

At that Reid flashed him a tired smile. "What, and miss all this?"

"Reid, Morgan," called their boss Aaron Hotchner. "Let's get started."

Reid sat next to David Rossi and Hotch and Prentiss sat in facing chairs while Morgan made himself comfortable across the aisle. "Where's JJ?" Reid asked about their missing agent.

"She's too far along in her pregnancy to fly," Hotch answered. "You'll just have to deal with me." He handed Reid his copy of the case file while the others took theirs out. He went over it for his youngest agent's benefit. "We have three women ranging from 25 to 40 who appeared to have been stabbed to death."

Reid frowned at the pictures as he took a closer look, ignoring the gory mess to study the other details in the frame. "What are they wearing?"

Prentiss responded. "They were wrapped in those when they were found. It's a torn sheet."

His eyes connected with hers. "Torn or cut?"

"Torn."

Rossi shifted in his seat. "Those are some thick sheets. Look," he pointed, "you can't see any part of the body through it no matter where the lighting is. Takes a lot of force to rip something like that."

"Or rage," Morgan added.

Rossi nodded in agreement. "I'd like to see this material."

Reid furrowed his eyebrows in thought. "Have they determined if these sheets belonged to these victims?"

Hotch shook his head. "White sheets are often common, Reid."

Reid skimmed the reports with his usual speed. After he was done he leaned his head back and rubbed his tired eyes while he thought. "All I can see these women have in common were that they were all married and their husbands were supposedly absent the night of the murders. That certainly narrows down the list of next possible victims."

Hotch grimaced. "That's exactly why we've been called in. Thoughts of women being killed inside their homes isn't exactly inspiring confidence in the keepers of the law."

Prentiss smirked. "Let me guess, election year."

Hotch gave her a small smile. "You got it."

The team hypothesized for the next twenty minutes or so before Hotch ended the powwow for his agents to take the last moments of the flight to relax- the last they would have until the UNSUB or UNSUBs were apprehended.

They each spread out in their normal fashion, Reid heading to the back to get some much needed restoring of calm after dealing with his mother and much of the general public.

After trying for several minutes to succumb to slumber he decided to give up the pretense and stare at the passing clouds from the window. There was something in those photos. Something he felt he was missing....

A soft sound alerted him someone had joined him. A faint scent of perfume told him who it was.

Emily sat across from him, smiling as she gently punched him knee. "You helped me win a bet against Morgan by making it here on time, Reid. He had already started to gloat when you arrived."

Reid's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "You guys bet on me?"

"Absolutely."

He rubbed his knee, more out of thought than actual pain. "What would you've done if you lost?"

"I would have hit you harder." She leaned in and patted his hand." Cheer up, Spencer. Now, Morgan has to take us to dinner of our choosing. Know any place expensive?" she asked with an evil grin.

He chuckled. "Actually there's a place I've been wanting to go. Gideon took me there when I was first accepted into the BAU. I've just never had an opportunity to go back."

"Perfect," she said as she rubbed her hands together deviously. "I can't wait until we get home and tell Agent Morgan." She paused, unsure how to continue. Her eyes connected with his warm ones and she blurted out the question on her mind. "How's your mom?" She held a bated breath as she waited for his answer. Previously that subject had been taboo, Reid even keeping Diana a secret from the team for some time. Lately, however, he had been opening up more and she was happy to listen. She just didn't want to push him too far.

Reid looked out of the window again. Just when Emily thought he wasn't going to answer he turned back to her. "Like any other person she has her good days and her bad days. Hers are just exaggerated." He sighed. "Yesterday was a bad day."

Emily impulsively put his nearest hand in hers. "Spence, I'm sorry."

He shrugged. "I've dealt with this before. Her doctor is confident new treatment may be beneficial."

She nodded. "What do you think?"

Reid looked at their joined hands, squeezing hers slightly to thank her for the support. "I think it's a horrible disease that turned a woman who happily used her brilliant mind and enjoyed learning new things to someone not comfortable outside of her own skin." He leaned forward and dropped his voice. "Emily, she was around my age when her symptoms started."

A look of concern flashed on her face. "You think you'll end up like your mother," she stated.

Reid flushed slightly. "Wouldn't you?"

"What are the odds?"

"One in ten children of a parent who is diagnosed with schizophrenia exhibits signs of the disease."

Prentiss smiled at him to try to remove the gloomy look on his face. "How about the statistics that a schizophrenic parent will produce an exceptionally intelligent offspring?"

His childlike confusion was adorable. "What do you mean?"

Her smile widened. "I have a friend who is a detective in New York. Her partner's mother was schizophrenic and he is brilliant. Not a genius like you but smarter than most. _And_ he's in his forties with no symptoms."

He quirked an eyebrow up. "Are you trying to appeal to my egotistical side to cheer me up, Agent Prentiss?"

She laughed. "That depends on if it's working, Dr. Reid."

Morgan plunked down beside Prentiss with a smirk. "What kind of Kumbaya junk are you guys getting into back here?"

She patted Reid's hand before releasing it. "We were discussing the Super Bowl. I was consoling Spencer on his team of choice.

Morgan made a face. "Reid, what do you know about football?"

"Oh, boy," Emily said under her breath.

Reid didn't seem to hear. "American football? You've got two sides- offense and defense, four chances to get the ball ten yards. The goal is to score points with touchdowns and field goals."

Morgan raised his eyebrows. "Thank you, John Madden," he said.

"Did you know," Reid continued, "they attribute the beginning of the way American football is played to a rugby match in 1823 in which a player by the name of William Web Ellis broke the rules by picking up the ball and running it in to score. They started playing a form of the game in colleges and once they tweaked the rules some it became the sport it is today."

Morgan glanced at Prentiss. "What just happened?"

"You just asked Dr. Spencer Reid, a man with the ability to remember and comprehend _everything_, what he knew about something."

"Remind me to never do that again."

She shook her head. "I shouldn't have to."


	3. Chapter 3

Once the team got checked into their hotel they made their way to the designated headquarters. A man who was Hotchner's height greeted them as soon as they walked in.

"Chief Winters," Hotch said as he shook the man's hand. "I am Special Agent Aaron Hotchner and this is my team, Special Agents Rossi, Morgan, Prentiss, and Dr. Reid."

"Agent Hotchner," Winters greeted with a nod to the others. "Thanks for coming at such short notice."

"Not a problem. It's what we do," Hotch answered, plainly.

Chief Winters adopted a fierce look. "This guy's really pissing me off. Do you really think we can catch this SOB?"

Hotch allowed a small smile. "My team and I will do everything we can to close this case quickly." He scanned the room. "Is there somewhere my team can set up? I have a few minor details I'd like to discuss with you."

"Certainly. Officer Russell!"

A petite blond, young enough to be fresh out of high school, appeared. "Yes, Chief?"

"Take our guests to the large conference room." He turned back to Hotch. "Agent Jareau explained you'd be short a person. Borrow Russell."

Hotch raised his brows. "Oh, that won't be necessary."

"None-the-less..."

Russell blushed as she led the federal agents towards the back of the building. "Chief Winters likes to get his way."

"So does Hotch," Prentiss told her.

Russell turned her head to throw a smile back at her before saying, "Is this the type of welcoming you always see?"

"What do you mean?"

She nodded towards the various desks, every occupant not hiding the fact that they were watching them. "The staring."

They looked around. "Oh," Prentiss said. "I guess we're used to it."

Morgan grinned. "Folks like to see how FBI agents look like."

"Plus," Reid added as he hitched his satchel higher on his thin shoulders, "most law enforcement agencies tend to be territorial with their crimes. Even in the different divisions of the military there is an 'us versus them' mentality with the 'us' believing they are the superior ones."

Russell showed them into a decent sized conference room complete with a round table and chairs, a chalkboard, and a free-standing corkboard which Reid promptly moved to a better location.

"Well," the officer said, "I, for one, am glad you are here. This case has kept me up at night." She shivered as she watched Reid pull out the case files from his pack and start to arrange the crime scene photos to pin onto the board with Prentiss stepping in to help.

David Rossi perked at Russell's sentence. "Do you know much about the case, Officer Russell?"

"More than I want to, sir. My partner and I were first responders to the first and third crime scenes. That's one reason the chief thought I could help."

Morgan raised a dark eyebrow. "And the other reason?"

She blushed again. "I'm a rookie, sir. Chief thinks we make good go-fers."

Rossi smiled as he patted her hand. "We all have to start somewhere. Is your partner around to talk to as well?"

Russell shook her head. "After the last discovery she took several days vacation."

Morgan grimaced from his position near the door, arms crossed. "Can't say I blame her. The last victim had a lot more cuts than the first two."

Prentiss and Reid, done with the board for a moment, joined the others standing around the table. "Our UNSUB has progressed rapidly to insane rage," Reid commented. "Vanessa Roper was stabbed a total of 36 times, mainly in her abdomen and chest according to the autopsy report. That's more than Marcella James and Wanda Sims combined."

Russell nodded. "Blood was everywhere at the Roper residence."

"More emotionally involved?" Emily suggested.

"The cuts on the first two vics were mainly superficial, caused more for torture purposes while he watched them suffer," Reid answered.

"Rushed for time?" asked Morgan.

"No," Russell told him. "Each were dead two to five days before being discovered."

Reid frowned as he thought. "All three victims were found by their husbands."

"All three alibis checked out," the officer confirmed. "Each were in different cities hundreds of miles away for work."

"And no connection where they worked," Hotch said as he joined them.

"No, sir."

Reid wandered back to the corkboard to study the tacked photos once more. What was he missing? "Did the husbands notice anything different?"

Russell turned to look at him. "Different?"

"Moved? Missing? Something added?"

Morgan moved to join Reid. "You thinking souvenirs?"

Instead of answering Reid marched out of the room. They all turned to watch him approach the nearest detective. Prentiss leaned towards Russell. "He does that."

Reid came back, magnifying glass in hand.

"You want to tell us what's going on, bro," Morgan said. "We've had this discussion. We can't read your mind."

He looked up from the pictures triumphantly. "Souvenirs? No. I think the UNSUB left something behind." He pointed to an object in one of the images. "This silver plaque is directly in two of the scenes. And I'd be willing to bet more than a dinner the edge in _this_ pic is the same thing."

Morgan grinned sheepishly. "Heard about that, did ya?"

Prentiss spoke up. "Spencer, how can you be sure the killer placed the item? It could very well be something of the victims that link them together."

"It could," he acknowledged.

"But you don't think so," Hotch finished for him.

"No. If you look at this one you can see the outlines of the plaque clearly. The area on the wall around it is lighter in a uniform rectangle."

Russell looked confused. "What does that mean?"

Rossi spoke up. "It means something was hanging on that wall a lot longer than that plaque." He looked at Hotch. "I think it's time to search these houses."

"I agree," Hotchner said. "Rossi, have Officer Russell take you to the Sims house. Morgan and Prentiss, you take James. Reid, you're with me."


	4. Chapter 4

Chief Winters insisted on accompanying Hotch and Reid to the most recent crime scene. Once they arrived there they all ducked under the yellow police tape and entered the house with the Chief's key. "What exactly we looking for, folks?"

Hotch looked to his youngest agent to explain.

"In the picture it looks like a silver plaque with a figure on the front," Reid told him. "We need to see the room where Vanessa Roper was murdered."

Winters led the way to the room that could have been considered the study, towards the back of the home. "Here's where I think you need to be. The husband says nothing was moved from what he saw."

Hotch raised an eyebrow. "Where is he now?"

"Atlanta. Work, you know."

"You didn't tell him not to leave town?"

"He wasn't a suspect."

"You haven't narrowed the list down. Everyone's a suspect."

The chief of police said nothing as they entered the den where the murder took place. On the hardwood floor the pools of dried blood were reminders a crime had happened.

"This the silver thing you looking for?" Winter asked, pointing to something above the mantle of the fireplace.

Reid took a step forward. "That's it. Please wear gloves, Chief Winters. The UNSUB may not have expected us to find this."

Winters shot him a glare. "I know what to do, young-un. Been doing it years before you were even born."

Reid ducked his head at the sharp jab about his age and stood back as Hotch went to get a closer look.

Once he donned rubber gloves, Winters gently lifted the two inch plaque and brought it closer to study it. The front held Jesus on the crucifix, completely covered in silver. Except for the punctured extremities.

"His wounds are painted red," Hotch said with a frown.

Reid poked his head between the two men. "Could be blood," he suggested.

Winters glanced at him. "What makes you think that?"

"It's his way of making this more personal for him. Perhaps he feels closer to God with the transference of blood. Instead of Jesus bleeding for His people, they are now bleeding for Him."

The chief lifted his eyebrows. "That's a warped way of thinking. Even for a killer." He flipped the plaque over and his eyebrows shot up even higher. "What kind of cryptograph is this chicken scratch? Guess I'll have to call in a language specialist."

"No need." Hotch took the plaque into his gloved hands before passing it to his team member.

Reid scanned it quickly. "It's Hebrew. But it's written incorrectly."

"Can you make out what it says?" Winters asked him.

"'Va-chai yakum met ki-hu af, bi Ha-ma'amin; v'ha-chayim ha-tekumah anokhi'. It's from John 11:25. 'I am the resurrection, the life; he that believeth in Me, though he were dead, yet shall he live'."

Winters cleared his throat. "What does that mean?"

Hotch exchanged a grim look with Reid. "We need to see what the others say. And I think you're right. We need to test this for human blood."


	5. Chapter 5

At the James residence across town Morgan and Prentiss were being given a tour of the house by Mr. James himself. They hid their shock to find their possible suspect and followed him into the dining room where Marcella James had drew her last breath nearly a week ago.

He looked apologetic when he just stopped in the threshold. "I'm sorry but I just haven't been able to come in this room since I found Marcella." He removed his glasses to wipe his eyes.

Morgan patted his shoulders while Prentiss pulled out some rubber gloves and went further in the room. "It's ok, Mr. James," Morgan said. "You've had so much to process lately. You do what makes you feel most comfortable."

"Mr. James?" Prentiss asked as she rounded the dining room table to get a better look at some frames around the room. "Is there anything in here that is misplaced or different?"

James blinked owlishly at her. "I don't think so. The cops asked me but there's nothing I could see."

Prentiss connected her eyes to his. "We know how hard this is and we appreciate all you can help us with. I know this is hard but please concentrate. Anything we find could bring Marcella's killer to justice."

He blinked away some tears and looked, making a point to not look where his wife had laid. "No, nothing different."

Disappointed she headed towards the only silver thing hanging on the wall. "How about this piece?"

James rubbed his eyes again. "I'm sorry. This is so hard."

She removed the plaque and walked towards the two men. "I know this is difficult for you. But right now I need you to focus. Where did this piece come from?"

If he was shocked by her brisk tone he didn't show it. He straightened his glasses and peered at the object in Prentiss' hand. "That's been here a couple of weeks. When it appeared I asked Marcella about it but she just laughed. She said she felt we needed Jesus."

From James' side Morgan jumped in. "Is your family very religious, Mr. James?"

He shook his head. "Not me. Listening to sermons for several hours is not my cup of tea. I've got plenty to do with my only free hours a week."

Prentiss flipped it over, saw writing she didn't recognize, then flipped it back to the bleeding Christ. "What about Mrs. James, sir? How religious was she?"

He thought for a moment. "She really wasn't. She was disenchanted with the church. But a couple of weeks ago she started talking about this place she found."

"A church," Morgan prompted.

James nodded. "She said it was life changing and helped her find joy. I was happy for her but I wasn't joining. Oh, she haggled me a good week but then she stopped and that was the end of it."

"Which church?"

"Fountain Spirit. Right down East Malone Street."

Prentiss held up the plaque. "Sir, can we take this? I'd like to analyze it further."

James shrugged. "Go ahead. It's not going to bring Marcella home. Nothing will." He put his hands to his face and sobbed.

Morgan and Prentiss let themselves out. "What do you think?" he asked as he opened the driver's door.

"He seems legitimate although I think the big finale at the end was fabricated."

He shifted it into gear as he thought. "Why do you think that?"

"He's not the crying type. His eyes were red from rubbing them because he has allergies."

His eyebrow raised up. "Wow, Em. I'm impressed."

She shrugged. "Don't be. While I was in the dining room I could see nose spray and an antihistamine on the counter in the kitchen."

"What do you think? Should we hit up the church or go to the base?"

She frowned at him. "I don't think the phrase 'hit up' is appropriate when you are talking about a church."

He risked a glance at her. "You know, pompous statements are Reid's forte. You are hanging out so much with him you are starting to sound like him."

Prentiss just laughed. "Let's go to the base. Hotch might want more people in on the church 'hit up'." She looked down at the piece of bagged evidence sitting on her lap. "Plus, this thing has some symbols on the back. I think what they say will tell us something about the UNSUB."

Morgan agreed and headed towards the police station.


	6. Chapter 6

Prentiss and Morgan arrived at the station the same time Rossi and Russell did. Dave was holding what looked to be the same decoration Emily found.

He held it up slightly and nodded to hers. "Looks like we found our connection."

People still staring at them from their desks, they made their way to their 'room'.

Russell was only one bothered by it. "How do you ignore it?"

The three agents looked confused. "Ignore what?"

"The people. You know, looking."

Rossi held open the conference room door. "Some cities are worse then others but after your tenth, twentieth, fiftieth time in a station you tend to focus your attention elsewhere."

Reid and Hotch had already made it back and Reid was writing furiously on the blackboard. "How did you do?" Hotch asked.

They held up their evidence. "Crucifixion of Jesus with writing on the back," Emily told him.

"Same here," Rossi confirmed.

"Blood on the wounds?" Hotch asked.

"Yes," they both said.

Prentiss frowned. "You don't think it's the vic's blood, do you?"

He sighed. "We sent ours to the lab but initial studies show it's human blood."

Rossi cracked a humorless smile. "Guess we can't hope it's the UNSUB."

"No," Reid said as he turned to them, pushing his hair back and leaving a chalk line on his cheek, "but we get glimpses of this man by the inscriptions he left on the back of the hangings." He stepped to Rossi and Russell and took the evidence bag.

Russell stepped up and brushed his cheek off, blushing as he looked at her quizzically. "Chalk," she managed to squeak out.

"Thanks." He took a step back and turned the object over, flattening out the wrinkles so he could see it. "'In whom we have redemption through His blood, the forgiveness of sins'."

Prentiss frowned. "That's from the bible."

Reid nodded. "From Ephesians 1:7 actually." He walked to her for the metal in her hand.

She leaned forward and said in a voice so low Reid even had trouble hearing it. "Maybe you should be clumsier with the chalk."

He choked and turned red as he took her offerings, staying where he was this time. "Same thing. This one is Acts 3:19 and it uncompleted. He wrote 'Repent therefore and be converted, that your sins may be blotted out'. The rest is 'so that times of refreshing may come from the presence of the Lord'."

Russell seemed enthralled. "Wow, do you have the whole bible memorized?"

"You don't know the half of it, kid," Morgan told her.

Winters chose to wander in at that moment. "More Hebrew phrases?" he asked. Reid nodded. "So, we're looking for a Jew," he said matter-of-factly. "I'll tell my men."

"Chief Winters, wait," Reid said, stopping him at the door. "While religion is a factor in this case I have no reason to believe out UNSUB is Jewish."

Winters narrowed his eyes. "Explain."

He held up the plaque he was holding. "Yes, this writing is Hebrew but it's written wrong. This is written from left to right when it should be right to left. And some things are used incorrectly, like it was translated word by word."

"Go on."

"There's the matter of the crucifixion itself," Prentiss added.

"So?" Winters frowned.

Morgan answered. "To Jewish people Jesus isn't their symbol of faith."

"Then there's the verse in the Roper residence," Reid spoke up. "It's taken from the New Testament. 'I am the resurrection' is referring to Jesus being the son of God."

Winters held up hands. "Ok, ok. But that doesn't narrow it down much."

"Actually it does," Prentiss said. "While we were at Marcella James house her husband mentioned that she had found religion several weeks before her death at a church called Fountain Spirit."

Hotch looked to the chief, who was currently over-stepping boundaries in his FBI case. He decided to not embarrass him in front of everyone but silently vowed to correcting his behavior soon. "Joshua, what do you know about this church?"

Winters shrugged. "Only what I catch on a drive-by. Non-denominational church. Pastor is Allen Lewis."

Hotch was unimpressed with his information- or lack there of. "Looks like this church needs a visit."

Morgan held his hands up. "Count me out. I had to talk to the _last_ church sermoner."

Reid frowned. "That's not a word." He was ignored.

Rossi grinned at Morgan. "It was good for you."

"Which means it was good for my soul and I've reached my quota for several years."

Emily and Hotch shared a look before he rolled his eyes.

"I'd actually like to go," Reid volunteered. "I'd like to pose some theological ideas to Mr. Lewis."

Hotch nodded. "Fine. Take someone with you."

"I'll go," Russell promptly said. "I might know some people and be able to help."

Prentiss caught the slightly panicked deer-in-the-headlights look Reid suddenly had on his face. She decided to intervene for mercy's sake. "That's actually why you shouldn't go, Officer Russell. At this point if we go in there as law enforcement it may spook the UNSUB. The less he changes his behavior, the better chance we have of catching him."

Morgan playfully punched her arm. "Sounds like someone just made her commitment to go, Hotch."

"Damn," she said, but the relief in Reid's face was worth it. Maybe.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: As birthday gift to myself I give you a present as well. A long chapter. But it comes with a small price. The church angle comes to a sermon. I warn all those who might not want to read such a thing. To all others...enjoy.**

* * *

Prentiss and Reid arrived at the church only to find they weren't the only ones there. "Great," she muttered, unbuckling her seat beat. "Wednesday services."

Reid had already climbed out of the vehicle and donned his ever present satchel. "Come in, Emily. It'll be good for your soul."

"Spencer, my soul's just fine, thank you."

"Think of it as research then."

The duo walked in with the flow of church members and made the unconscious decision to sit on the back pew, people-watching as they waited for the sermon to start.

There was a group of children all sitting quietly but every so often a foot would kick out. Prentiss laughed as she pointed them out to Reid. "Seems they don't want to be here."

"Well, that was a ridiculous understatement. Children's attention spans do not take the adult need to 'hurry and wait' into account. Now, the teenagers..." They both located the smattering of boys and girls and immediately started to mentally profile them.

Prentiss smiled. "Body Language 101, Spencer," she said to pass the time. "Go."

He looked at her slightly surprised then went along with the impulse. "The blond male standing and facing towards us. He's the lead of the group- he commands attention and lets off an aura of confidence. See the steeping of the fingers? It shows he's aware of his position and enjoys it. His jacket and build suggests he plays some kind of sport- I would say varsity football."

"Age?"

He watched his prey for a moment. "I'd say senior 17, 18. Any younger and he wouldn't elude such power." He looked at her. "Your turn."

"Right, my turn." She peered over to the group to pick her mark. "Brunette sitting closest to Jock."

Reid cracked a smile. "Who said he was French?"

Prentiss snorted. "Mark the calendar. Dr. Reid made a funny."

"The brunette?" he prompted.

"She is an insecure introvert. She uses her glasses as a shield to hide her from the others although she hates wearing them. By her tilted head towards Jock she is interested in him. However, every time he talks to her she answers by fidgeting with her hands and playing with her hair. The others will only start taking her seriously when she does herself."

The congregation snarled to find their seats as the organ music played. The choir director led the congregation into several hymns which made Emily snicker at Reid's lip-syncing. She nudged him. "Go ahead and sing."

"I don't know them."

She raised an eyebrow. "You didn't go to church when you were younger?"

He leaned in to be heard and to not interrupt. His mouth ended up near her ear. "When I was younger my mother was of the opinion that any religious houses offered brain-washing techniques. She compensated by making sure I received readings of the Lord's Word."

She turned her head slightly but turned back because of the proximity of their faces. "Lord's Word?" she asked.

"King James Bible, Apocryphia, Tanakh, Vulgate."

She did look at him then. "You read the bible in Latin?"

"Yep."

"Impressive."

The hymns over, the pastor Allen Lewis walked to the podium. "Greetings, fellow worshippers. I've got a special sermon prepared here tonight. We will start in 2 Thessalonians 2:8. 'And then shall that wicked be revealed, whom the Lord shall consume with the spirit of his mouth, and shall destroy with the brightness of his coming even him, whose coming is after the working of Satan with all power and signs and lying wonders, and with all deceivableness of unrighteousness in them saved. And for this cause God shall send them strong delusion, that they should believe a lie'." He paused and took a drink from some water on his pulpit.

"In these verses we see how Satan is constantly trying to trick us into believing his 'signs and lying wonders' so that he can convince man to follow him down his deceitful path. And man can be deceived into believing his lies and false miracles. Let us now turn to Exodus 7:9 to see an example of the devil performing such a miracle to try to attract followers of God."

Emily leaned into the attentive Reid. "Seems like church hasn't really changed that much in all the years since I attended one."

He glanced down as her. "I find the experience highly interesting so far."

Lewis continued. "You might be asking yourself how, as a Christian, can you be sure who is performing for you. Well, 1 Thessalonians 5:21 tells us, 'Prove all things, hold fast that which is good'. Satan's miracles are glorifying men, not God. They do not agree with God's nature, His gifts, or His word. 'But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, long suffering, gentleness, goodness, faith'.

"One of the biggest mistakes we as Christians can make is accepting something too quickly as God's work because we are afraid of angering Him with our testing and questions. Our Father is of a loving and patient nature. The Lord welcomes out honest questions as long as we are not rebelliously demanding or putting Him on trial but coming to Him with a humble and sincere heart.

"Remember John 16:13 'Howbeit when he, the Spirit of truth, is come, he will guide you into all truth for he shall not speak of himself; but whatsoever he shall hear, that shall he speak; and he will show you things to come'."

When service was over Prentiss and Reid stood and walked against the flowing crowd to wait in a short line to talk to Allen Lewis.

A few minutes later the two partners were in front of the pastor. He beamed as he clasped Prentiss' hand with both of his. "Welcome to Fountain Spirit! What kind of questions can I answer for you tonight, Mr. and Mrs....?"

Prentiss casually glanced around them to ascertain no parishioners could hear their conversation before addressing Lewis. "I'm Agent Prentiss. This is Agent Reid. We'd like to ask you a few questions."

He looked taken aback so Reid quickly added, "We're investigating the murders of Wanda Sims, Marcella James, and Vanessa Roper."

He immediately nodded. "Yes, horrible isn't it." He swept his hand in front of him. "Come join me in my office."

Prentiss reached out her arm to stop him. "Actually, Mr. Lewis, we were hoping to talk out here."

"We'd prefer no one realize the FBI is here yet," Reid told him.

Lewis blinked. "You mean...you think... you think there is a killer among us? In my church?"

Reid nodded. "There is a significant possibility a parishioner is the person we want for questioning."

Lewis denied it. "I know my church. I don't believe anyone could be capable of such a heinous crime."

Prentiss looked to Reid to counter that statement. He did not disappoint. "Your sermon tonight was based on the truth of Satan's wonder and signs. While this case is certainly not in the category of a 'miracle' the Bible shows many instances where Lucifer lies to get what he thinks he wants or deserves. Wouldn't you consider your biased judgment working to his advantage?"

Lewis thought for a moment then sighed. "Perhaps you are right, my son. How may I be of help?"

"Did you know the victims?" Emily asked first off.

"Not well," Lewis answered. "None had been coming to Fountain Spirit for very long."

She frowned slightly. "You didn't find that odd that three new members ended up dead?"

He shrugged, sadly. "I am from a huge urban city. Unfortunately, murder no longer shocks me."

"Is there anything that stands out about the women?" Reid asked him. "Maybe someone watching anyone closer than usual? Paying a lot of attention to them?"

"If so I didn't notice it. I make it a priority to introduce myself personally to each new member. Each of the women did say they were married but that their husbands were often away and they felt draw to the church to fill a void."

"Why THIS church?" Prentiss asked.

"I find that many people are drawn to non-domination churches," Lewis told her. "Most know they are God's children but are not receptive to the sometimes strict roles of the other sects."

After several more questions in which the answer wasn't helpful for their analysis the pair decided they had done all they could there. Reid waited until they were outside before saying to Prentiss, "So, it seems our UNSUB is meeting them here."

"Or urging them to join," she added, "to satisfy his religious tendencies."

They got into the SUV. "Can we get some food?" he asked her. "I'm starving."

She glanced at him. "You look tired, too."

"I like to make a sincere effort to see my mom on her birthday. But I am tired." To prove his point he dozed off while Emily drove towards the hotel and food.

She pulled into a small diner and gently shook him awake. "Food," she said softly as he turned a wide eyed confused stare at her.

He rubbed his eyes as she turned to exit the vehicle. "You know, despite the apparent roadblock. I think the key is in that church."

Prentiss sighed. "Yeah, we just have to find what it is."

"Yeah."


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Wanted to give you guys an update... am currently working on a series of short pieces to be publish together. I am excited and hope you are too!**

* * *

Morgan and Prentiss stood indecisively in the hotel hallway early the next morning. "I don't know," she told him. "It seems cruel to do this."

Morgan gave a quick smile. "We are in the cruel and unusual business."

"He just didn't sleep the night before and--"

"Look," he interrupted. "If my ass has to be up at this godforsaken hour then Boy Genius should share in the party." He reached around Prentiss to knock loudly on the hotel door in front of them.

It was a scant minute before the door was answered by a half awake Reid dressed in boxers and a t-shirt, hair tousled from sleep. He grunted a greeted at them.

Morgan faked a cheerful attitude. "Rise and shine, Reid. It's time to put that brain of yours to work."

Reid backed into his still dark room to squint at the bedside clock. "It's barely five!" he protested .

His co-workers followed him in. "Central time," Prentiss reminded him as she sat on the edge of his unmade bed.

"Doesn't change the fact that I went to bed at one in the morning-central time."

Morgan grinned and lightly shoved Reid towards the bathroom. "Doesn't change the fact that you're not going back to sleep at the moment. We'll just wait here until you're done."

In less than ten minutes he was showered and dressed and the trio made their way to the lobby to meet up with Hotch and Rossi. Reid made an immediate bee line to the available coffee carafe. Hotch waited until he had joined the rest of the small group, coffee already half consumed. "I brought you here early because I received information I feel we need. A phone call came to me from the crime lab regarding the droplets found on the crucifixion." He paused to look at all of them. "It was human blood- each type consistent with the victim it was found with. While we can't say for sure this early if it is a true blood match I think it's safe to consider this a possibility."

Rossi nodded. "Taking into account all that we know I would say the church is the number one commonality these three women have."

"And he's preying on women who are alone most of the time," Prentiss added.

"He has to have a way of finding that out," Morgan commented. "Something easy. The murders were five days apart at the most."

Reid was mostly awake by then. He snapped his fingers. "I think I know how..."

* * *

"The UNSUB is between the ages of 25 and 35," Morgan began the profile to room of police officers.

"He has a religious background, more than likely hammered in from his childhood or adolescent years," Rossi continued.

Reid stepped forward. "Fountain Spirit Church is his base. It's where he is finding his victims and earning their trust. The church has bi-weekly meetings for women members. We think it is here that he finds his targets."

Prentiss spoke next from her perch on the table. "He will be considered an unassuming man, one who has average looks and a shy disposition. He is non-threatening in behavior to get himself in their homes yet strong enough to overpower them."

"I want to concentrate on these meetings," Hotch told the group. "The men also meet on the same nights so it will be difficult to pick him out. Part of profiling is noticing inconsistencies. Trust your instincts. I would rather us be wrong twenty times than not follow through the one time it counts. That's all we have for now." He gathered his team to him with a look. "I want to see the roster of the church and the people in those classes," he told them as Russell joined them. "Rossi, Prentiss, see what we can find for Garcia. Morgan you're with me. The classes let out about eight. Maybe the neighbors saw more than they think. Reid, I want you here. Figure out all you can about Lewis and see if this guy has struck before. I would like to know what catalyst tipped him over and when."

As team dispersed Russell stood where she was. "What about me, sir?"

"Call me Hotch," he corrected gently. "And you can stay with Reid so all his statistical values aren't saved up for us."

"Ha ha," Reid said with a slight roll of his eyes.

Prentiss smirked at him while Morgan winked. Reid turned a nice shade of pink. "Good luck," Emily said as they headed out of the door.

"Thanks," Reid said.

Morgan stuck his head back in the doorway. "She was talking to Officer Russell. She'll need it to understand you." Prentiss and Morgan's laughter could be heard as they made their way through the station.

Reid closed the glass door decisively.

"I can feel the love," Russell said as she studied her "partner".

"Yeah, their love for tormenting me," he grumbled.

"Like a brother and sister," she observed.

"More like those weird people you aren't exactly related to but still can't get away from at family gatherings."

She laughed. "That bad, huh?"

He chuckled as well. "Not really. They just woke me up early and didn't bring coffee. Weird relatives or not they are pretty much the only family I have." He looked up at the map that had found it's way on the corkboard. "We've ruled out geography as part of the murder."

She went to stand beside him. "With the church as the primary target I would say anyone within their membership is a likely target."

"Hm..."

Russell looked around. "How are we going to research anything without a computer?"

Reid dug out his cell phone. "I have something better than a computer." He dialed a number and put it on speaker. "Hey, Garcia."

"Hey, cutie! I thought you'd never call."

He grinned at her voice, trying to imagine what color glasses and hair she had today. "Garcia, I have Officer Russell with me."

"Rachel," Russell supplied.

"Well, good morning, Rachel," Garcia greeted in her enthusiastic manner. "Are you keeping our resident brainiac out of trouble?"

Rachel smiled. "Trying to, ma'am, but he doesn't make it easy."

Garcia's laughter filled the room. "No, indeed."

"Garcia, we need your help."

"Why, Dr. Reid, I thought you'd never ask," she said in a slight Southern drawl.

"Emily and Morgan are compiling a list of people for you to cross-reference. In the meantime, I want to run a check on the pastor, Allen Lewis."

"You think he might be our UNSUB?" she asked, suddenly serious.

"I'm leaning towards no. He doesn't fit the profile. Rachel mentioned the church being the target..." he said, not noticing Russell warm at the switch to her first name.

Garcia picked up his thought. "And you think it might be _him_ the UNSUB is ultimately punishing?"

Reid shrugged his thin shoulders though she couldn't see. "It's better than anything else we have."

"Roger that. Give me one moment." It didn't take her that long. "Well, sugar, in 2005 it seems Allen Lewis made a name for himself."

Reid looked at his information sheet though he didn't need to. "Yeah, Garcia, that's when Fountain Spirit opened. I want before that."

"That's what I'm saying, Reid. He literally made a name for himself. Before that, Allen Lewis didn't exist."


	9. Chapter 9

Emily Prentiss didn't attend church like she was raised to. As she got older she felt her belief in religion slip further away. She was sure her day-to-day dealings with what a human was capable of doing to another had bearing on her decision to detach herself. She had seen enough hypocrisy. She had been jaded. She knew Morgan felt the same. Reid was still young enough to retain some wonder but his struggle was with his scientific mind. JJ tried to go when permitted to try to have a balance in her life.

Prentiss looked to Morgan now to see none of the internal struggles on his face. At the moment he was in control as he questioned the woman in charge of the women classes.

"Were any of the victims friends inside or out of the devotional?"

The woman shook her head. "Not that I could tell. We offer two classes a week but they are the same teachings so that a busy woman could hopefully work out her schedule for one day. I don't believe the three women where in the same class ever."

"Did you have any women who did attend every one?" Prentiss asked.

"Yes, Agnes Porter, for one. She insists her husband do the same in case he falls asleep during one," she said with a smile.

"I'm going to need a copy of the roster for the men's and women's classes for the last month," Morgan told her.

"Of course. I'll get that for you."

They were following her to an ancient computer in the back of the office they were standing in when Prentiss' phone rang. "Excuse me," she said then stepped outside the room to take the call. "Special Agent Prentiss."

"Emily." It was Reid. "Are you still at the church?"

"Yeah. Morgan's getting the lists right now."

"Is Lewis there?"

"Yeah," she said again. "But he doesn't fit the profile."

"Not out profile. But Garcia ran the database for similar crimes and from the years of 1996 to 2000 there were a string of murders that matched."

"Was Lewis never charged?"

"An ex-con named Blake Williams was questioned but by the time they found enough to convict he had left the state. And, apparently, changed his name."

Prentiss blew out her breath. "And his image to that of a goodly pastor. Thanks, Spencer."

"Emily, be careful."

She shut her phone and turned to find Morgan walking towards her, papers in hand. "Got it," he said, then looked at her face. "What's wrong?"

She told him briefly what was happening. "We can't let him know or he might run."

Her warnings were unnecessary.

"I'm sorry," the church secretary said, "but the pastor has already left. He had some errands to run."

They waited until they were outside before calling Hotch. 


	10. Chapter 10

Hotch paced back and forth in their assigned conference room. He didn't like it but his team was split once again, with Prentiss taking duty to watch for Allen Lewis with Officer Russell. "Garcia, tell me you have something."

"I do, sir," she told him and rattled off five names, which Reid scrawled on the chalkboard. "Those are the same men who attended the nights all three victims were murdered."

"What do we know about each of them?" Hotch asked.

"Call them back and I'll look them up."

Reid studied his writing. "Milner Porter."

"Married. Two children- grown. 68 years old. Lived in Sikeston all his life."

"Stop." He marked him off the list. "Dustin Stevens."

"Single. 30. Moved here from California in '95. Ooh. Looks like he lives with his parents."

He lift him there as a possibility. "James Carter."

"42. Divorced. Full custody of three children... who attend the church daycare while he's there."

Hotch snorted. "Looks like he's using it for his own personal time out."

Marker through. "Jesse Taylor."

"16. Lives at home. Attends high school. Works at the supermarket."

"Benjamin Williams."

"26. Single. Moved there about two years ago from North Carolina. No priors."

"Ok, thanks, Garcia." Hotch moved to look at his diminished list. "Both fit the profile."

Rossi agreed. "It wouldn't hurt to pay a visit to them. Reid, where do they live?"

Reid showed them on the map.

* * *

Prentiss and Russell sat in the car, quietly drinking their cooled down coffees. So far the stakeout at Lewis' house had been fruitless but Prentiss learned a long time ago the key to a successful takedown was patience.

Russell finally broke the silence. "What's it like working at the BAU?"

Prentiss shot her a glance. "Never a dull moment. It's not like anything I've ever done before."

"Do you like what you do?"

"I love it," she immediately said. "Sure, the hours suck and vacation time is only a dream. But my team and I, we make a difference." Then she grinned. "I work quite literally with the best minds in the country."

"How intimidating!"

"Hell, yeah," she agreed. "I mean, I consider myself fairly intelligent but I'm nothing compared to David Rossi. And, Reid? You may as well forget it."

Russell smiled. "He must have dumbed it down for me."

"He's shy around beautiful girls. Next time you see him ask about his thesis on the quantum relativity theory."

Before Russell could respond Prentiss' phone rang.

"Prentiss, it's Hotch. I need you to go up the street to ask a suspect in for questioning."

"And Lewis?"

"Later."

Prentiss hung up and looked at Russell. "It's time to roll."

When they found the house it seemed all the lights were on. Noticing that the front door was opened about an inch both women grabbed their guns. Prentiss motioned she was going around the back while Russell eased in the door.

As Russell walked down the entry hall, gun pointed down, ears ringing as adrenaline rushed she heard Agent Prentiss yell as she entered the home as well.

"Mr. Williams? This is the FBI."

Russell flinched at the announcement but knew it was necessary. She turned to clear the living room when she saw the blood. She immediately rushed forward. When she saw the body she knew the man was dead but she had to check for a pulse as she was trained.

She holstered her gun and was gingerly making her way around the bloodstains when a sudden sound made her freeze.

It was the sound of slow, deliberate clapping. It was the sound that told her she was not alone.

She turned her head to see a man still in a chair, rocking back and forth as he methodically cleaned off the bloody butcher knife.

"You found your killer," he told her as he stood, knife still in hand. "I've delivered him to you just as God willed it to be so."

"And who is he?" she managed to squeak out.

He grinned. "That's Mr. Williams."

"Ben Williams!" Prentiss appeared, gun trained on the man. "Drop your weapon. Hands where I can see them."

Instead of dropping the knife he laid it gently beside the body then looked back to Prentiss for further instructions.


	11. Chapter 11

Russell had stopped shivering by the time they made it back to the precinct. Almost. They gave her a choice on if she wanted to watch the federal interrogation. "

"I want to see why he did it," she had said.

Prentiss took her in the viewing room, arm around her shoulders. "Often times we don't receive a reason. Please don't be disappointed if it doesn't happen."

As they watched Rossi and Morgan question Ben Williams the door on their side opened, admitting Reid and Hotch. Reid gave a smile to Russell. "I heard what happened in there. You did great."

She blushed. "I was stupid," she argued.

Hotch held up his hand. "You were brave. Never think otherwise."

Russell watched as Reid moved beside Prentiss to look out the two-way glass. She was about to turn away when she saw him look down at the agent next to him.

"You ok?" he asked softly.

"Yes," she answered.

They looked at each other a minute more, then both looked away. Finally he spoke, addressing the room. "Garcia did some serious digging for us. Seems when Blake Williams was on his occasional parole time he got married and fathered a child."

"The mother was religious, wasn't she," Prentiss ventured.

"Yes," Hotch said. "In '96 she died and Blake attempted to stay clean for his son."

Russell spoke up. "Until he started murdering?"

Reid answered. "I don't think it was Blake that did the murdering. His crimes were that of robbing liquor stores and stealing cars."

"Then why did he run?"

"Perhaps to protect his son?" Prentiss said. "Mother dying would be a catalyst and if Blake took flight after the murder questioning Ben would be free to try to make the most of his life."

"Until he found his dad," said Hotch. "Dad knows it is just a matter of time before we find out, goes to try to stop his son..."

"Gets murdered for his trouble," Russell completed.

Prentiss shook her head. "The darker side of family life." 


	12. Epilogue

Once the plane was steady in the air Morgan made his way to sit across from Reid. "Well?" he asked.

Reid looked confused. "Well, what?"

Morgan rolled his eyes. "Did Officer Russell give you means of communication? Phone number? E-mail address?"

"Oh. No."

His eyebrows shot up. "No? She was totally digging you. What did you do?"

Reid shrugged. "Nothing. Although she did say she didn't want to interfere and she wished me luck."

"What does that mean?"

"I don't know."

Prentiss appeared to sit beside Morgan. "Hey, guys. What's up?"

Morgan sighed. "Lamenting."

"About...?"

"Women," he answered.

She looked at Reid. "Did you get a number?"

"No, but she did ask about quantum relativity."

Emily snorted while Morgan asked, "What the hell is quantum relativity?"

"Well..." was all Reid got out before Prentiss shoved her IPOD buds in her ears. Morgan was on his own. 


End file.
